


Red Light Behavior

by FrostyFingers



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1924401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostyFingers/pseuds/FrostyFingers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our favorite female FBI agent has to sit through a sexual harassment class. Will she die of boredom? Lizzington fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Light Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks goes to jackandsamforever, who's beta-ed this and didn't make me sleep on the couch after all ;)  
> This is probably a one-shot!

It was the most boring thing she ever had to sit through. She still didn't fully understand why they had to be here. Yes, she and Ressler had made some comments, but was this really necessary?

Sexual harassment class. As if they had nothing more important to do. She was ready to kill someone by now, just to have a case, even if it was her own. By the looks of it, her partner wasn't faring much better. He was doodling around on his note pad, and with closer inspection, she could see that it was little aliens. That was definitely interesting, she'd have to ask him about that.

Liz picked up her pen and wrote on a part of his pad. 'Sooo bored. Ideas?'

Ressler looked at her for a second, before turning back to the piece of paper. 'Tic-tac-toe?' He scribbled down, and Liz almost laughed at the absurdity.

She quickly drew the pattern and turned the paper so he could see, making a move with her hand that implied he could start. That continued to play for some time, but quickly got bored again.

'Srsly considering faking heart attack.' Liz scribbled down.

Ressler read it and snorted at her words. 'Do I have to do CPR?'

'EWWW!' Was written in bold letters, and the man stifled a laugh. 'You think we could pull this off?'

Ressler nodded enthusiastically while writing. 'You drop to the floor, I'll carry you out.'

"Your tax dollars at work. This is why I don't pay any," came a familiar low voice from behind them. Both agents turned in their chairs and looked at the person behind them. "You should see your faces." He chuckled.

"Reddington, what are you doing here? How did you get in?" Ressler asked.

"Through the door," Red answered sarcastically, then turned to Liz. "Hello, Lizzie." He smiled gently.

"Red," she greeted, unable to hold back a smile herself. He looked good. Too good actually. The cream white suit had always been a favorite; right next to the simple grey one.

"Tell me you've got a case for us," Ressler said impatiently.

Instead of answering, Red just kept looking at Liz, making her squirm under his penetrating gaze. "What did you do to land yourself in here, Lizzie?" He asked, ignoring Ressler.

"It's all on him," she answered, pointing at the man next to her.

"What?! You were the one bringing up deep throat!" Ressler accused in a hushed voice.

Red's head shot to her, and he openly stared at her with raised brows. She could feel herself blushing. "My, my, Lizzie... And here I thought you were disgusted by what I said about the g-spot deep throating."

"What?" Ressler seemed truly confused.

"It's not what you think... Either of you." Liz tried to find a way out of this. "Look, can you just get us out of here? I'm starting to think about killing someone."

"That doesn't suit you, Lizzie."

"Please, Red." Her big blue eyes were his undoing.

He nodded. "Turn around and feign interest then. Lizzie, call my cell."

Both agents did as they were told, and Liz pulled out her cell and hit speed dial number 4. Hadn't he been number 7 a while ago? His thoughts were interrupted by a shrill ringing of his phone, quickly drawing everyone's attention to him.

"Cooper." He answered. "Copy that. I'll send out my team now. Keep the scene clear of anyone until they arrive." He snapped his cell shut and stood. "Keen, Ressler, we've got a lead, looks like he's done it again. Let's go."

The two agents got up from their chairs and followed Red dutifully; until they were stopped by the man in charge of the sexual harassment class.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Red stared him down. "Assistant Director Cooper with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Are you trying to get yourself imprisoned? Because you're holding up federal agents on their way to a hot scene." The other man spluttered and stuttered, not knowing how to reply. "That's what I thought. Check off agents Keen and Ressler while you're at it." He turned back to them and said, "Let's go, team."

The three of them walked out of the big room and into the wide hallway. After making sure that they weren't being followed, Ressler pumped up a fist. "Oh, thank god this is over. I think I love you, Reddington."

Red grimaced. "I'd rather have Agent Keen say that." He grinned openly at the woman next to him, while Ressler excused himself to the men's room with a smirk on his face.

"I think that's at least yellow light behavior," she replied with a sarcastic smile.

He raised a brow and gave her another grin. "I think I need to up my game then. Have dinner with me." Before she could reply he went on, "I practically saved your life here, Lizzie. Dinner, just the two of us."

"Yes."

"Oh come on, Lizzie, don't be - what?" Red stared at her. His eyes were wide. She had never seen him like that before. Seemed like she had caught him by surprise. "What did you say?"

"I said yes." Something fluttered deep inside her chest at the look on his face. Agreeing to have dinner with him must truly mean a lot to him then.

"I'll pick you up at 7?" He asked, his voice sounding a little rough.

She smiled at him. "Perfect."

Red nodded. "I'll see you later then." Without another word he turned and walked towards the exit.

"Oh and Red?" Finally she was in a position to make him nervous. He turned back and looked at her questioningly. "Upping your game means talking about deep throat and the g-spot again?"

She saw him swallow hard, and couldn't stop the victorious grin from spreading across her face.

But then a predatory smile made its way across his. "Why only talk about it?" She blushed again. "I'll see you at seven, sweetheart."

Somehow he always managed to come out on top. Damn him.


End file.
